Champion of Nightmares
by rebelrabbit
Summary: The Champions are an old and powerful group. Hand-picked by the Legendaries themselves, they are the greatest soldiers in the world. Protectors, friends, sometimes even partners of the Legendaries, they do what normal men cannot. Nathan, the newest recruit, is chosen to take on an extremely dangerous assignment that could change the world. He must hunt down a rogue Champion.
1. Leaving Old Lives

**Hello and welcome to my new fic Champion of Nightmares. Like Shadows of War, this takes place in a heavily modified AU loosely based off the video games. Much of the lore is changed (sometimes only slightly), and technological and political advancements come in spades at the cost of slight culteral degradation (I.E. 2020 is about 2015, 2050 would be early 90's/ late 80's). This fic starts in the year 2022, not too far into the future so much of the technology is still the same.  
Warnings: Violence,** **EXTREME Blood and gore,** **VERY harsh language, dark, vulgar, occasionally racist/sexist/** **religion-ist humor, and possible lemons (very likely).  
Now, onto the fanfic.  
**

* * *

"Please...just stop. I beg of you."

The man's pleas went unheard as he was violently thrown against the wall and kneed in the face, breaking his nose and adding to the already extensive list of injuries he has received in the last 5 minutes.

"Why should I grant you any mercy?" growled the man's assailant. He was wearing an all-black combat outfit, complete with ballistic vest and limb protectors, which made him nearly invisible in the shadowed alleyway. His face was concealed by a mask, the right side colored white with a red streak down the eye, and the left side purple with a yellow streak. Clipped to his sides were a pair of one-handed scythes, engraved with numerous visages of death and destruction. He drew one of the scythes and pressed it against the man's throat. "You certainly don't show any mercy towards _your_ foes."

The man gulped, his Adam's Apple briefly touching the blade. "At least _I_ make their deaths quick and painless," he rebutted.

The masked man increased the pressure of the blade against his throat. "Lying will only make it worse lieutenant," he said as he pulled several photos from a pocket in this outfit. They depicted the man torturing, raping, and mutilating several people bound in chains.

His eyes went wide from shock and horror. "H-how did...that facility is-"

"'Intrusion-proof'? Obviously not enough," the masked man interrupted. "Tell me, how much does Rocket pay you to make these people suffer?" he snarled, "Or is not about money, and you do it simply for the sick satisfaction of it?" He shifted the scythe to the side of the man's neck and brought the other to the opposite side. "Any final words?"

The man knew he was going to die, there simply was no escape, so he collected every ounce of courage left in his body and stared his soon-to-be killer straight in the eyes. "We will hunt you down, to the ends of the earth if need be. You will die, just like the rest of your pathetic group, and when we conquer the world your name will be erased from history, just like all who oppose us."

"I can't wait," he whispered as he brought the two scythes together, severing the man's head and painting everything nearby in a coat of red. He kicked the headless corpse to the side and climbed up the brick wall, using his scythes as makeshift climbing hooks. When he reached the roof of the building, he sheathed his weapons and looked at his surroundings.

The dull glow of the city's nightlife disturbed the otherwise complete blackness that enveloped the city. To his far left was a massive, brightly lit spire that went from the ground and seemed to brush the sky at its very tip. The Goldenrod Radio Tower was an awe-inspiring sight, not only was it the largest structure in Johto, barely ahead of the Tin Tower, but was also one of the largest in the world and was frequently used for international diplomatic meetings.

It also happened to be the headquarters of Team Rocket's Johto branch.

"One grunt down, fifty billion more to go," the masked man sighed to himself. He took off running, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, his silhouette appearing as a shadow against the dark-grey sky. After several minutes he reached a large collection of apartment buildings. He went to one of the larger ones, jumped off the roof and grabbed on to a pipe jutting from the side. He climbed the pipe until he got to the top floor, which held the penthouse suite, and jumped through an open window.

"Good evening Nathan," an feminine voice said from nowhere, "or should I say good _morning_."

"I had some trouble tracking the guy down, probably chewed up a little more time then I thought," the man now identified as Nathan said.

The air in front of him fizzled and sparked, revealing a rather peeved Rotom, its usual grin replaced with an annoyed frown. "Probably?" she echoed, crossing her 'arms'.

"Calm down Rhonda, I still got the job done," he groaned, "and can you at least let me get out of this armor before you give me a lecture? I still have blood, vomit, and piss covering me if you haven't noticed."

Rhonda gave a defeated sigh and shook her head. "You know I just worry about you Nathan, I don't want you getting yourself killed."

Nathan quickly undid his blood-stained armor, showing his dark-green shirt and grey pants, and tossed it into a corner of a room. " _You_ know I wouldn't do anything that seemed too dangerous for that very reason."

"You never know when intel might be wrong," Rhonda argued.

"And when that happens, you nope right the fuck out of there," he countered, "Rhonda, we've been doing this for years, nothing will-"

"What about the others?!" she snapped, "You SAY nothing bad will happen, but look at everyone else, look at the fucking WALL! Everyone else is DEAD because 'something bad' happened to them! We're the last of the Horsemen Nathan, we were HEROES and look where we are now. Stuck in some shitty over-sized apartment and not even making a DENT in Rocket, and haven't in over a year."

"Rhonda, please," Nathan pleaded, placing his hand on the back of her head despite the shocks he received from doing so, "just stop, I've taken every precaution there is, I won't die."

"How do you know?" she questioned, her voice cracking, "The others said the same thing."

Nathan sighed and pulled off his mask, revealing his jet-black hair, piercing red eyes, gently pointed teeth, and ebony skin. He was a Gengar half-breed, and like all Ghost-Breeds, he was of the Morph sub-species. "As morbid as it sounds, I know it won't happen _because_ they died. Oscar Wilde once said 'Experience is merely the name we give to our mistakes'. Their mistakes showed me what to avoid doing."

Rhonda sighed and shook her head again, "That can only take you so far, but I suppose I'll have to take what I can get."

He gave a sad smile and scratched the back of her head, getting an unintentional purr from the Rotom. "That guy was the last hit for the week anyway, so you won't have to worry for a while."

"I want to stop worrying for good," she whispered as she laid her head on his shoulder, "you're the only family I have Nathan. When I first resurrected, you just happened to be right there. I was scared, but you took me in, treated me better then anyone did when I was alive. I don't want to lose you."

Nathan couldn't say anything, so instead he just gave her a light hug, not even flinching from the static surrounding her body. They pulled away from each other after a few moments, with Rhonda sporting a Rotom's signature grin now. "I made some hamburgers in case you came back hungry, it's kinda cold now though..."

A light rumble coming from Nathan's stomach made them both snicker. "Well you guessed right." He tossed his mask on to a nearby end table and walked into the kitchen, where a hamburger was waiting for him on a plate. He took a bit out of it, noting that he probably should've reheated it first, and walked back out. He eventually wandered over to the Memorial Wall, where photos of all his fallen comrades were pinned up for remembrance.

Nathan, along with three others, had formed a vigilante group to oppose Team Rocket. They called themselves the Four Horsemen, after the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and adopted names based around them. For about two years they had enjoyed overwhelming success with their efforts, gaining international fame and even support of the government. But after those initial years, everything began to fall apart.

It started with the death of War, who sacrificed himself to destroy a major arms cache. Soon after, Famine and Pestilence disappeared on their missions to Unova and Kalos respectively. War's successor, Strife, was suicidally reckless and found herself alone against an entire army. After Strife's final stand, her twin sister, nicknamed Vengeance, was presumed killed when she single-handedly sank a Rocket-controlled battleship in the waters between Johto and Orre. Then there was just Nathan and a new recruit named Fury, and he didn't last long, as he was killed by a sniper during a mission to stop the launching of a nuclear missile aimed at the International Neutrality Grounds in Fiore. All in all, it took less then a year for the once-legendary Horsemen to be reduced to almost nothing.

Now, the final living member of the Four Horsemen was, ironically, Death. He picked up the picture of Vengeance and stared sorrowfully at it. It showed a partially-shiny Gardevoir, her green 'hair' crossed with thin streaks of blue, with her arms crossed and leaning against the wall. Despite all the misfortunes throughout her life, from losing her sister to being on the run from normal society, she nonetheless had a slight smile on her face.

"I remember Rose, I liked her, always enjoyed her company," Rhonda said as she floated up to the Wall.

"Yeah," Nathan agreed, "she was one of the more laid-back ones, despite losing her sister and being shot at on a daily basis."

Rhonda began to giggle slightly, "I also remember the time you told me you liked her."

"Yes, I remember that too," Nathan grumbled as he replaced the photo, "worst mistake of my life."

Rhonda playfully punched him in the arm, trying not to shock him too hard. "Come on, I was just teasing you guys. Besides you would've made a great couple."

"Forceably pushing us together at every conceivable opportunity is not 'teasing', nor is drugging one of us and making us sleep in each other's beds. And neither is-"

"Okay okay okay I get it," Rhonda interrupted, "I might've gone too far sometimes but I was really just trying to get you two together."

Nathan sighed and turned back to the wall. "Not like it mattered in the long run anyway."

"Think of it this way," Rhonda said as she put her arm on his shoulder, "She went on that mission alone because she didn't want anything to happen to you. She cared about you, and was willing to die to let you live. Her death was sad, but not meaningless. She saved thousands of lives, avenged her sister, and did all that _by herself_ because she loved you, and knew that it was a suicide mission for anyone that went."

Nathan absentmindedly nodded. "I just wish I had the balls to just tell her."

"Honestly, I don't think you needed to."

"That'd be a nice thought," he said as he gazed at the photo, thinking about what happened, and what could've been. "I'm gonna turn in for the night, see you in the morning."

"It IS morning," she quipped. "But yeah, good night," she said as she fizzled into the air.

xxxxxx

"Gooooooooood morning Goldenrod! It is a fan _tastic_ day today with clear skies and mild temperatures, perfect for taking a walk in the park and hanging out with friends. And don't forget trainers, the summer Pokken tournament at Goldenrod University is still open to all applicants until Jul-" the radio alarm clock suddently exploded from the inside, spreading shrapnel and leaving thin trails of black smoke.

"Fuckin' a'," Nathan moaned as he groggily rubbed his eyes. "Rhonda, did you change the settings on the clock again?" he yelled out.

"Maybe," a certain Rotom giggled as she materialized in front of him.

"One of these days Rhonda, one of these days," Nathan threatened as he pushed himself out of the bed.

Rhonda rolled her eyes and dismissed his unspecified threat. "There's pancakes in the kitchen if you want any," she informed him.

"You know I'm perfectly capable of cooking as well right?"

"Oh? Not even a simple thank you?" she mock-pouted.

Nathan sighed and rolled his eyes. "Thank you for your cooking Rhonda, it is very appreciated," he said as if he rehearsed it a million times, "but my point still stands."

"It's one of the few things that keeps me busy, since not needing to sleep gives me a lot of free time."

"Have you even _tried_ anything else?" he questioned.

"I once tried watching TV once," she recalled, "nothing but bullshit and porn on at night though."

"There's always the internet," Nathan suggested.

"Again, bullshit and porn," Rhonda repeated.

"Can't really argue with that," he agreed. He made his way out of the sparsely furnished bedroom and into the kitchen, where a large stack of pancakes was waiting. There were enough on the plate to feed a family of four.

"Still makes all these extras, even after thirteen months," he sighed to himself. Rhonda had a habit of preparing meals as if the rest of the Horsemen were still alive. As much as she didn't want to admit it, whether it was hiding behind a metaphorical mask or just ignoring it, she had been deeply affected by the deaths of everyone. Each lost member chipped away at her soul, eventually breaking it altogether. Nathan sometimes envied her grief, wishing he could miss his fallen comrades with more then just passing sadness, but his younger life steeled him against loss, granting him double-edged willpower that Rhonda simply didn't have.

"I-I'm sorry Nathan, I just do it automatically and..." her voice trailed off as it cracked.

"Rhonda," he spoke, shutting her up, "Don't. Don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I just want to do something meaningful," she whimpered.

Nathan wrapped her into an embrace, with her head pressed against his shoulder. "Simply _being_ here is meaningful. Knowing that you're here gives me something to return to, something that keeps me going."

He heard an unintelligible mumble come from his shoulder, the Rotom against it slowly peeling away and gazing into his blood-red eyes. "Please Nathan, don't _return_ , just _stay_. Give up on fighting. Settle down and live a normal life, _please_ ," she pleaded.

"I want to Rhonda, I really do."

xxxxxx

Several hours passed, with Rhonda returning to her usual chirpish self and Nathan lounging in front of the TV. He got up to get leftover breakfast from the refrigerator and noticed that it was rather empty.

"Guess I have to do a grocery run huh?" he asked the glorified ice-box.

"Seems that way," it replied.

Nathan didn't even flinch as Rhonda removed herself from the appliance. "Do you always have to do that?" he asked.

"Does that even need to be answered?" she retorted.

Nathan sighed and began to concentrate. Thick trails of black smoke swirled up from his feet and circled around him, eventually completely covering him. When it dispersed, it revealed a man with black hair, brown eyes, and a pale skin tone. He had used Shadow Disguise, a recently developed technique that allowed Ghost-types to change their external appearance similar to a Zoroark's natural ability. Unfortunately, it is not as thorough as what Zoroark are capable of, and only affects those that see in the normal vision spectrum. He needed to disguise himself as half-breeds like him were illegal within Johto, along with most of the world.

"You know, other than the skin color, you don't really look that different," Rhonda mused.

"Which is good, since I can maintain it longer this way," Nathan replied.

Rhonda nodded in understanding. "I guess doing something like turning yourself into a chick would be a lot more exhausting, since you're changing pretty much everything."

"Why the hell would I do that?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Never know," Rhonda shrugged.

Nathan shook his head and walked to the front door, pausing briefly to stuff a pistol and knife into the inside of his jacket. "Alright, be back in a few hours," he called behind him.

"Be safe!" she said with a wave.

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Rhonda, I'm twenty-two, not six," he sighed as he closed the door.

xxxxxx

Nathan was quickly walking to the store trying to beat the oncoming rain. "Always has to rain whenever I'm doing something doesn't it?" he asked no-one. He looked at the sky and guessed that he had, at most, half-an-hour until the city became one large swimming pool. He decided to cut through an alley to shorten the walk. He got halfway through when he heard a voice from a nearby side-alley.

"Well ain't you just the prettiest little thing aren't you?" a deep and husky voice echoed through the area.

"That's not a good voice to hear around here," Nathan whispered to himself. His hand hovered near his pocket knife as he moved to investigate the voice. He paused near a corner, pressed his back against the brick wall, and peered past it.

He saw three large men, all dressed in identical red-and-black t-shirts, showing their allegiance to the Blood Ice gang. They were all standing around a young woman, who's white fur and green hair were matted with tears. Her identically-colored clothes were lightly torn, likely from the men standing around her, although her red flower-like scarf was undamaged.

"Please, just leave me alone," she sobbed.

"Aw, come on sweety, don't cry like that," the lead thug said as he lifted her chin up with one hand and grasped the zipper on his jeans with the other, "we can make it up to you, you just gotta trust us."

Nathan saw the woman's eyes go wide as he stepped around the corner. "Hey! Leave the girl alone!" he shouted at the thugs, holding his knife. The two other thugs spun around and glared at him.

"Back off asshole," the thug on the left yelled back, "we found her first. She's OUR bitch now!"

"Not while I'm here she's not," he threatened.

The lead thug turned back to the woman. "Sorry babe, but we gotta deal wi-" he was suddenly cut off when her knee smashed into his crotch. As he recoiled backwards, she grabbed a nearby length of pipe and smacked it across his head, sending him sprawling across the ground.

Sensing an opportunity, Nathan tackled the nearest thug to the ground. The two men briefly fought over the knife, but Nathan won and slammed the pointed bottom onto the thug's head repeatedly, cracking it open on the third strike. Nathan pushed himself off the bleeding corpse, only to be grappled from behind by the third thug. The thug put Nathan into a choke-hold, which was useless as Nathan didn't need to breathe. Nathan wasn't able to throw him off, and was surprised when he felt the pressure disappear from his neck and back.

He looked behind him and saw the thug being restrained by the arms by two strong vines, although he did not know what controlled them. Nathan quickly readied his knife and sliced it across the thug's throat, a trail of blood following the blade. The vines released their hold, allowing the thug to clutch his throat in a futile attempt to keep himself from bleeding out. He staggered forwards while he made several gurgling noises as he choked on his own blood before collapsing into a bloody heap. Nathan kicked the corpse to ensure that he wouldn't get up for round two before turning to the strangely un-mortified woman.

"Sorry you have to see this," he apologized.

"I'm fine," she dismissed with a shake of her head, her voice was soft and calm despite the carnage that just transpired. "I'm just sorry I had to drag you into this."

"What do you mean?" he asked, stepping away from an expanding pool of blood.

The woman sighed and shook her head, "I'm no fighter, there's no way I could've fought them all, but I don't want random people jumping in and risking their lives to save mine."

"Well, jumping in from nowhere and saving random people is sort of my job," Nathan laughed as he held out his hand, "Name's Nathan by that way."

The woman smiled and shook it, "Clara. Would've liked it if we met under better circumstances though."

Nathan was about to respond when a third voice entered the conversation. "Hate to break up the moment," the last not-dead thug wheezed as he held up a blinking phone, "but every Blood Ice in the district is gonna come here and gun down your pathetic asses."

"Son of a bitch," Nathan hissed as he kicked him, knocking him out and sending several of his teeth clattering against the concrete. "We need to get out of here, do you have anywhere to go?" he asked Clara.

She shook her head. "No, I'm visiting here with my sister, she's the one that would know where to go."

"Damn," Nathan sighed, "How about this, I'll take to a safe place I know, you can call your sister so she can take you out of here, sound good?"

"Sure," Clara said with a nod, "lead the way."

"One thing though," Nathan stopped her. He dispelled his disguise and shook the metaphorical haze from his mind, "Just thought you should know what I really am."

"I thought something was off about you. No offense," she quickly added.

"'Off' is putting it mildly," he chuckled as they broke into a run. They quickly left the alley to be greeted by several parked cars. Nathan hopped on to a nearby sports bike and motioned for Clara to do the same.

"Is this yours?" she asked as she slid into the rear seat.

Nathan jammed his knife into the ignition slot and twisted it clockwise, breaking it and forcing the motorcycle to start. "It is now."

Nathan slammed on the gas petal, rocketing them forward and causing Clara to wrap her arms around him so as to not fall off. A split-second after, three black-and-red cars slid past the corner behind them fully intending to shoot or ram them off the road.

"Behind us!" Clara yelled.

"We see 'em, red sports bike, purple guy and white-and-green chick, this'll be easy," buzzed the voice of one of the gangsters in Nathan's ear. He just realized that he accidentally left his earpiece in after his last mission.

A thug in one of the cars leaned out the window and shot at them with a submachine gun. Most of the bullets hit the pavement, but one hit and destroyed the tail light of the bike.

"Damn it," Nathan swore. He concentrated, a feat made difficult from the bullets whizzing past his face, and summoned a blue Protect bubble around the bike. It absorbed and disintegrated the last few bullets around them.

"You can use powers?" Clara yelled over the blaring of multiple engines. Most half-breeds can't use powers without training due to their 'half-way' biology.

"I'm kinda special," Nathan yelled back.

One of the cars moved up close to them, the passenger leaning out in an attempt to grab Clara. "You're comin' with me missy," he snarled through his bandana.

Nathan pulled out his pistol and placed it against the man's jaw. "I don't think so," he said as he pulled the trigger, annihilating the lower half of his face.

"FUCK I can't see!" the driver yelled as he tried to rub the blood from his eyes. The car swerved wildly before rear-ending a civilian vehicle that failed to move out of the way in time, sending them both skidding on their sides.

"One down," mumbled to himself. Another car pulled up to the other side, one of the rear passengers sitting on the rolled-down window aiming an assault rifle. He fired a short burst at them, turning the blue shield to a dark purple and making Clara bury her face into Nathan's neck.

Nathan held out his arm and psychically grabbed on to the thug and pulled him out the window, with him bouncing on the ground once before turning into a red smear on the underside of the third car.

"Hold on, backup's comin'" another voice buzzed in Nathan's ear. True to his word, two motorcycles and another car came blazing out of a side street, all sporting the Blood Ice coloring. "We got these niggas now," a third voice said.

One of the motorcycles pulled up behind the duo, its occupant firing a sawed-off shotgun at them. The blast caused the Protect bubble to flare to a bright pink, indicating that it was nearing destruction. The cyclist moved to the side and took aim again when the gun was suddenly ripped from his hand and flew into Nathan's. Not missing a beat, he quickly spun the gun around and fired the remaining shell at the stunned gangster, blowing off sizable chunks of flesh. The corpse fell to the side and left a trail of red as it skid across the pavement.

The second cyclist fired a burst from his Uzi, the damage finally causing the Protect to shatter.

"God fucking dammit!" Nathan shouted as pain surged through his body. The pain was intense and almost made him fall off the motorcycle, had he not been caught by Clara.

"I got you," she yelled as she pulled him back up to a seated position. Nathan simply nodded his thanks as he was unable to talk through his gasps for breath. "Look, a subway entrance!" she said as she pointed to the left.

Seeing no other options, Nathan jerked the motorcycle towards the entrance, the terrified pedestrians on the sidewalk jumping out of the way just in time. The bike bounced on the stairs several times before flipping end-over-end, sending its two occupants rolling across the floor and slamming into the ticket gate.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_?!" the standing guard yelled as the pseudo-flying sports bike passed mere inches from his face. He pulled out his gun as the two half-breeds jumped over the gate, but dived backwards as several cars barreled through the stair-well after them. "I don't get paid enough for this bullshit!" he said as he wisely ran away.

The surviving gangsters got out of their wrecked cars and began firing their various weapons at Nathan, who vaulted over a row of seats to use as cover. He looked to the side and saw Clara doing the same, albeit with her hands covering her head.

He retrieved his pistol, nicknamed the LEO among black market circles, and shot at the gangsters. They dived for cover behind the ticket gates and cars, except for one who had his head blown open by a lucky bullet. They resumed firing as their fallen member collapsed to the floor.

The rattle of machinegun fire coupled with the distinct booms of hi-powered pistols and rifles echoed throughout the terminal, neither side scoring hits on the other. Nathan loaded his last full magazine into his gun as the other side did the same. He leaned out of cover once again, but retreated back when a bullet grazed the side of his arm.

He swore under his breath and checked the wound. The large amount of deep-purple blood oozing from it made it seem worse then it actually was. It was barely worse then a scratch, but the bullet must have hit a minor blood vessel. He was grateful that ghost-breeds only needed about 30% of their blood in order to stay living, effectively preventing him from bleeding out.

"Nathan! Over here!" shouted a voice behind him. He looked over and saw Clara in the subway tunnel trying to open a maintenance door, which had several wood boards nailed over it. He had completely lost track of her in the excitement of the gunfight.

He sprinted over to her, wayward bullets tearing up the floor tiles underneath him. He rolled across the ground and narrowly avoided a shotgun blast that would've killed him. He jumped down into the tunnel and slashed at the boards with a Shadow Claw, following up with a kick to the surprisingly weak metal door.

As soon as they were inside, Clara slammed the door shut and jammed the door closed with a piece of pipe. They ran off into the dimly-lit maintenance tunnels, not looking back until the door was out of sight. Outside the door, several gangsters were standing around contemplating their next move.

"So...you wanna go in?" one asked another.

"Hell no nigga, not with those damn Ratz in there," he responded.

"Why the hell are you faggots standing around?" another, heavily muscled thug shouted at them, "we're getting paid to fucking kill them. SO GO KILL THEM."

"Uh, boss?" a forth whimpered, "That's Ratz territory, they'll cut us to fucking ribbons."

The 'boss' hefted his rifle and kick the door off its hinges. "If you pussies don't want the reward, then I'll take it myself," he snarled as he disappeared beyond the doorway.

The gangsters all looked at each other, came to a silent unanimous agreement, and ran the hell away.

xxxxxx

"I think...we lost them," Clara panted as she leaned against the wall. Her clothes were drenched with sweat and her fur was matted in several places. _'I feel disgusting,'_ she thought. Nathan closed his eyes and lowered his head, taking in several deep breaths out of instinct. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Clara had a large hole in her right leg that was bleeding profusely.

"You were hit?" he asked in alarm.

"It's not really anything," she said, trying to downplay the pain she felt across her side. "I mean, I still ran, right?"

Nathan tore off a piece of his shirt with a Shadow Claw and wrapped it around her injury, making a makeshift bandage. She winced in pain, but bit down any complaints.

"Thanks. Again," she said as he stood up. They were about to start walking again when an odd question popped into her head. "Where did you learn to use powers?"

Nathan cocked an eyebrow at her but answered anyway. "Actually, I didn't learn. I was born with the knowledge. One of those Pure-Bloods or whatever thair called"

Clara was genuinely surprised. Half-breeds that don't have to learn to use their powers, called Pure-Bloods, are very rare, only about 10% of all half-breeds being one. "Really? I had to learn from a tutor. Must've been good not to have to learn everything" She didn't like having to lie, but she didn't fully trust Nathan, despite him saving her life several times today.

"To be honest, I would've preferred to have to learn. Too many accidents as a child," Nathan shrugged. "By the way, how come you're a Morph? I thought grass-breeds where always Gijinkas."

Clara's breath got caught in her throat. It was scientifically proven to show that grass-breeds are ALWAYS Gijinkas. Yet here she was, a Morph as plain as day. "I'm...special, sort of," she finally managed to choke out. When Nathan looked at her skeptically, she quickly explained. "It's a sensitive subject, I don't like to talk about it." Not _technically_ a lie, but...

Nathan decided to drop the subject as he handed her his phone, "Here, you can call your sister to take you out of here once we stop moving."

Clara reluctantly took the phone. "How come you're giving me this?"

"Because you don't have one."

"How did you know I don't have a phone?" she asked.

"Your pants have no pockets, and you don't seem to be the type of girl that stores things in her bra," he answered.

Clara blushed slightly and nodded, complimenting his detective skills. They continued walking for a while, talking about various subjects such as how Clara is able to move throughout the city (she effectively mind-rapes people into thinking she's human), how Nathan learned to fight like he did, to finally where the safehouse he was taking her actually _is_.

"Trust me, it might look like a shitty old apartment building, because it is, but it's practically Fort Dragonair on the inside," he reassured her.

"I don't know," she worried, "what if they find us again?"

"They wont, trust me. The gangs stay away from there, mainly because the Complex Manager's Garchomp has a 'kill on sight' policy for them."

Clara nodded her head, "I guess an angry Garchomp is as good a security system as any."

"Yep," he agreed. He stopped in front of a ladder that led toward the surface. "We're here."

xxxxxxx

Nathan unlocked the front door and held it open for Clara, who nodded her thanks.

"Hello Nath-who's this?" Rhonda asked as she materialized.

"This is Clara, she's going to stay here for a bit until her sister can come pick her up," Nathan explained.

Rhonda's gaze shifted over to the injury on his arm, then the one on Clara's leg, before looking back at him. "What happened?"

"I found her being harassed by the Blood Ices, pulled her out, took a few hits along the way, nothing serious" he said non-nonchalantly.

Rhonda smiled and nodded her head, understanding what had happened.

 _ **SMACK**_

Nathan was sent into a nearby end-table from the force of the blow while Rhonda's outstretched arm quivered with fury. Her eyes were nearly burning as they watched him slowly pick himself up off the ground.

"I'm...going to go call my sister," Clara said as she quickly fled the room.

Rhonda ignored her and instead zipped in front of Nathan's face. "What the HELL were you thinking?!" she shrieked, "You go out for something as simple as groceries, then suddenly your having a high-speed SHOOTOUT in the middle of fucking DOWNTOWN?! All to save some random chick you've never met and will probably never see again? I tell you to stay safe and THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS?!"

"What the hell did you want me to do? Leave her to be raped and/or killed?" he retorted. "And how did you know about the chase thing anyway?"

Rhonda snapped her arm over to the TV, which was showing coverage of the aforementioned downtown chase.

"Oh."

Rhonda rubbed the sides of her head in frustration. If she wasn't already dead, she would've had an aneurism by now. "Doing assassination work is one thing, but THIS," she gestured to the TV again, "this is just stupid Nathan. Completely, utterly stupid."

"I did what I could Rhonda, which was only one option out of one," Nathan sighed, "everything turned out fine in the end though, didn't it?"

"You're still bleeding," Rhonda deadpanned, prompting Nathan to glance at his injury and swear.

"I'll go patch this up, you go tell Clara she can make herself at home," he said as he walked off to the bathroom.

Rhonda floated away searching for Clara, finding her standing on the balcony and leaning against the rail. "Clara?"

Clara nearly jumped at the sudden noise. "Oh, you're the Rotom from earlier," she said as she looked behind her.

"Rhonda," she introduced herself. "And sorry for sort of exploding back there, I was a little mad at Nathan."

Clara hummed in understanding, "I can tell you care about him a lot, and just want him to be safe."

"He's the only family I have," Rhonda said as she 'sat' on the railing, "I didn't have any when I died, and the graveyard welcoming committee wasn't exactly the nicest bunch."

Clara turned back to her front, admiring the view of the city the 20th story balcony offered. "Nathan's a good person. If he hadn't jumped in and took care of those thugs, I don't know what I would've done." She then sighed and closed her eyes, "And if I wasn't so afraid of fighting, I could've helped him."

"Some of us just aren't cut out for fighting," Rhonda consoled, "like me, I couldn't beat a Magikarp if I tried, so I just stay behind and take care of everyone." She suddenly remembered Clara's injury and offered to heal it.

Clara's response was to unravel the cloth, revealing her completely healed leg, and tossed it over the railing where it landed in an open garbage bin. "I heal fast," she explained.

The two sat in silence for a while, enjoying the view when Rhonda asked a question out of nowhere. "Nathan doesn't know who you are, does he 'Clara?'"

"What do you mean?" She hesitantly asked.

Rhonda rolled her eyes, "Oh _please_ , the green hair, the white fur, the _scarf_ , it's obvious who you really are."

Clara sighed in defeat; there was no point in hiding anything now. "I don't think so, he never made any mention of it."

Rhonda gave a small victorious laugh. "Didn't think so, he's not a very religious person. He knows the names of the gods, but that's about it." When she noticed Clara's worried expression, she quickly reassured her that they weren't going to sell her out.

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door and the sound of Nathan answering it.

"Hello?" he asked the woman standing in front of him. She wore dark grey and black clothes, had a rather pale-grey skin tone, and had her pure-white hair loosely draped around her shoulders and covered one of her cyan eyes. The oddest part of her attire however was the dark-red shark-tooth necklace draped around her neck and rested on her shoulders and breasts.

"My sister Clara said she was here. Is she?" the woman asked, her tone friendly yet slightly annoyed.

"Lena!" Clara said as she saw the woman. Nathan stepped aside to allow the two women to embrace. He noted that Clara's bright coloring contrasted greatly with Lena's dark tones, and that Lena appeared to be human, and surmised that they might actually be adopted sisters.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Lena said once they separated, "what happened?"

Clara took a deep breath and began to explain what happened prior to meeting Nathan. She was walking to the bakery for a snack when a ragged-looking man appeared from seemingly nowhere and pickpocketed her wallet. She chased the man into the alleys to reclaim her property when she was jumped by three men standing guard. She narrowly escaped and ran away only to come across a dead end.

"And that's when Nathan came in and saved me from those...who are they again?"

"Blood Ice gang," Nathan filled in.

Lena's eyes widened slightly when she heard that. "You went against the Blood Ices and _won_? You're a hell of a fighter, I'll give you that." Nathan simply waved off the compliment. "Well, thanks for rescuing my sister anyway," she said, "do you mind if I come in?"

"Not at all," he said as he waved her inside, "would've imagined you wanted to get the hell out of here as soon as possible though."

"Flight home isn't for another few hours, and this place seems as good to stay as any," she shrugged.

"Well, I'll try to make your stay as good as possible. Which hopefully means not getting shot at," he quickly added.

"Yes, _hopefully_ we can avoid that," Lena said as she rolled her eyes.

"Anything I can get you?" he asked the two women as they sat on the couch.

"I'll just want some water," Clara quietly requested. It was obvious that she did NOT want to spend the next several hours here.

"I'll take the same," Lena added, "And a small steak, medium-rare, with some rice and lightly salted fries on the side."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be at a Golden Corral right now?" Nathan joked, earning a snort of laughter from the white-haired woman. He went to the kitchen to get them their beverages when he felt an odd tingling throughout his body.

 _'Well well well, managed to impress TWO women in the SAME day,'_ spoke Rhonda's voice from within him, _'Look at you, so much better then the awkward teenager I knew seven years ago.'_

 _'First off,'_ Nathan countered, _'I have NO idea what you're talking about. Second, get the hell out of my body.'_

He felt the tingling leave him as Rhonda did. "Just saying Nathan, you've gotten so much better. Makes me curious what will happen."

"Nothing will _happen_ ," he sighed, "this isn't some shitty fanfic, real life doesn't work that way."

Rhonda stared at him with a blank look on her face.

"Nevermind," he dismissed. He finally went on with his task and brought the drinks back to the living room, where he found Clara figiting in place and Lena attempting to console her. "Brought you your water, something wrong?"

Lena shook her head and gently patted Clara on the shoulder. "She's just shy around new people and places," she then leaned over to Nathan and whispered, "That, and I think she likes you."

Clara squeaked and her hair stood on end, making it resemble a large mohawk. "WHAT?!" she shrieked. She soon dissolved into a blubbering mess of excuses about how she did NOT like Nathan. However, that was merely a cover for the actual conversation.

 _'Do you even KNOW what you're SAYING?!'_ she telepathically yelled at Lena, _'We shouldn't even BE here! We don't even know if he's trustworthy and now you're giving him these stupid ideas?! The Rotom here knows who I am, what if they take us to Rocket?'_

 _'Sheesh you stress out over nothing,'_ Lena responded, _'We're safe here, I poked through his mind and he doesn't know you, the Rotom holds you in the highest regard, AND they hate Rocket as much as we do. You DID mentally scan him when you met, right?'_

 _'...'_

 _'Didn't think so,'_ Lena mentally laughed, _'you always were kind of forgetful. And you don't have to worry about him having any ideas, 'cause he's mentally face-palming right now.'_

Clara felt a world of relief wash over her. She decided that they possibly were trustworthy for now.

"I've never seen anyone get so worked up over something so small," Nathan interrupted the conversation he was unaware of.

"She always acts like this," Lena explained, "I do it to her all the time, so don't think you're special."

"I didn't think I was," Nathan deadpanned.

"Nathan!" Rhonda shouted as she burst from the hallway. "You need to listen to this, it's bad. REAL bad," she said as she handed him a communicator.

Nathan pressed a few buttons and brought the device up to his ear.

"We gave you a month to remove everyone from here before we claimed it, but you didn't. Do you know what happens now?" The voice had an unmistakable tone of smug superiority.

"Rocket," Nathan growled.

Lena scowled while Clara's hair stood up again. "Rocket's here? What do they want?" Clara asked worriedly.

"What's gonna happen is that I'm gonna kill your ass and feed you to the wolves," a second voice, the complex manager's, spat. The tell-tale roar of a Garchomp seemed agreed with the man.

"I don't think so mister Sinclair. Men, put 'em down." Nathan had to pull the device away from him as the sounds of gunfire exploded from it. After a few seconds the noise died down, allowing him to resume listening.

"-nfirmed, both targets dead. Continuing with razing."

Nathan wondered what the Rocket commander meant by 'razing' when a large explosion came from outside. The group of four raced to the balcony, only to be greeted with a pants-shitting sight. One of the buildings had a large smoking hole blown out of the roof, possibly from one of the helicopter-gunships making their way over to the complex. On the ground, several small tanks crashed through the front gate, although their cannons were replaced with powerful flamethrowers. The tanks immediately sprayed flame across a few buildings while the gunships launched rockets at others.

"They're killing innocent people!" Clara cried.

Lena's gaze darkened as she watched the carnage unfold in front of her. "Give me a gun," she demanded.

"No, you two need to get somewhere safe," he refused.

Lena spun around and grasped him firmly on the shoulder. "I am NOT going to run away while Rocket slaughters people by the dozen. Give. Me. A gun."

Nathan stared into her cyan eyes. They held a deep, unwavering determination, something he always saw whenever his Horsemen faced battle. "What preference?"

"Fast, accurate, and deadly," she said as she released her grip.

"Got just the thing," Rhonda called as she tossed her a battle rifle. Lena preformed a quick check on the gun, found it fully loaded, and aimed it at the nearest gunship.

"I spy with my little eye," she whispered as she focused on the cockpit, "the first asshole that's going to die." A single bullet erupted from the gun, traveled over 100 feet, pierced the windshield, and shattered the pilot's visored face. The gunship slowly rotated before plummeting to the earth, the body exploding into a ball of flame on contact.

"Nice shot!" Nathan complimented as he grabbed a rifle of his own.

Lena cracked a smirk as she turned her attention to one of the tanks. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, and when she exhaled, a large brown hole appeared beneath the tank. It violently shuddered and rotated in place, slowly sinking into the ground that was once solid. Within moments the tank disappeared completely. Lena looked behind her and smiled at Nathan's stunned expression.

"By the way, I'm not as human as I look," she said, clearly enjoying his shock.

Nathan shook his head and scanned the area. The remaining two tanks and another helicopter focused on their building. He couldn't fathom why they would suddenly want to destroy this place. His train of thought halted when he saw the gunship's dual rocket launchers preparing to fire.

"GET INSIDE!" he commanded the two women beside him, although they were already starting to move. Once all three of them were inside, Nathan slammed the sliding glass door closed, just in time for the rockets to explode against it. He was sent flying backwards and landed on a newly-destroyed coffee table. Clara ignored the hail of glass and sprinted after him, quickly grabbing one of his arms while Rhonda appeared and grabbed the other.

"You're hurt. Really bad," Clara said as they pulled him to his feet.

"I'm fine," he hissed in pain. In truth, the half-pound of shattered glass embedded in his chest ensured that he was most assuredly NOT fine. "Rhonda, you need to get as many people out of here as possible. Go," he ordered the Rotom.

Rhonda hesitated, she knew she had to rescue innocent civilians from Rocket's massacre, but she didn't want to leave Nathan. Her gaze flicked over to Clara, who's eye's seemed to say _'Go. We'll protect him. I promise.'_ She realized that Clara was actually telepathically talking to her. With a nod at the woman, she fizzled out of the air and into other parts of the building.

Lena braced herself as dozens of bullets riddled the wall she was hiding behind. Once the gunfire stopped she leaned to the side and shot at the gunship, every shot plinking harmlessly off it's armor. "I hate to be a nag, but I could really use some help," she yelled.

Nathan limped over to a nearby footlocker pressed against the wall. He opened it and looted his two scythes from it and pressed the bottoms of each against the other. He threw the newly-formed double-scythe towards the blown-open wall. The scythe was wreathed in blank and purple flames as it sliced through the air. It barely missed the side of the helicopter. The pilot prepared to fire again when it suddenly boomeranged back and sliced off the gunship's tail on the return trip. The scythe traveled back to Nathan, who effortlessly caught it with one hand.

"Holy shit," Lena gasped. She watched the gunship spiral through the air and slam into the side of the building. The floor underneath her gave way and she started sliding off when a hand reached out and took ahold of her's. She looked up and saw Nathan struggling to hold on to her, then looked back down to see her dropped gun get torn to pieces by the helicopter's still-spinning blades.

He slowly pulled her up to stable flooring, flinching when she suddenly grappled him for support. He shifted his body so Lena's breasts were no longer pressing against his injuries.

"Fuck...thanks a lot," she panted. When she noticed that she was pressing against his injuries, she pushed herself away with an apology.

"We need to get out of here," Nathan mumbled. He flinched again when Clara's hand touched his chest.

"Let me help," she whispered. Her eyes and hand were engulfed in white energy, which spread across his chest and left his wounds mostly healed. The bleeding stopped and the pain disappeared, but the glass remained. "I owe you a lot more," she said with a smile, "this is the least I can do."

"You don't owe me anything," he said as he tore out one of the larger shards, "Lets just get the hell out of here."

As if on cue, the whole building shook as supports were being burned away by the attacking flame-tanks. The entire floor tilted slightly, sending its occupants staggering.

"I second that," Lena agreed once the shaking stopped. The group ran out the room door and into the increasingly-burning hallway. "Fucking Arceus," she hissed as they entered the stairway.

Lena was the first one descending the stairs, an unfortunate position as she was sent into the 17th floor hallway by an explosion.

"LENA!" Clara cried as she ran after her prone sister. The half-breed woman pulled her into an open room just as another gunship hovered outside the hole and began peppering the hallway with bullets. Both women shielded their eyes from the mass of splinters that flew towards them. Once the hail subsided, Nathan charged into the room and slammed the door shut. Clara didn't notice his presence, as she was too focused on Lena.

"God fucking dammit," Lena hissed. She felt a hand brush her stark-white hair away from her face, revealing her eyes that were threatening to release their tears.

"Just...hold still," Clara whispered to her sister. Much of Lena's right side was torn open, the gaping hole showing destroyed muscle and tendons, as well as exposing one of her lower ribs. Clara focused the healing energies within her and washed them over the wound, yet barely had any effect. "No no no, it's not healing!" she panicked.

"Hang on, I got something," Nathan said as he knelt down next to them. He tore off the ruined lower half Lena's shirt and began to trace a finger around her stomach. He patted a spot near the edge of the wound and jabbed a syringe into it. She growled in pain and her body spasmed, yet he kept injecting the red fluid into her. He emptied and removed the syringe, and almost immediately the wound began to rapidly heal. After moments, all that was left of the wound was a ring of blood around her torso.

"What...the hell?" Lena shakily asked as she was helped up by Clara.

"Max heal," Nathan explained as he tossed the syringe away, "looted it from my room before we bailed."

"Shit," Lena patted the area that formerly held her injury. It wasn't even sore. "Are you absurdly prepared or absurdly paranoid?"

"Yes."

"I don't feel the helicopter nearby, it must've flown off," Clara reported. Her eyes were closed, but faint trails of pink energy still escaped from them.

"Probably because it just finished tearing this place a new asshole," Nathan grumbled as he opened the door, only to be greeted by flaming debris landing in front of his face. "HOLY SHIT," he jumped back and rammed into Lena.

"Ya know, this is the second time in the last five minutes we've had our bodies pressed together," Lena joked while shoving him away, "when does Clara get a turn?"

"NOT time to be joking," Clara warned. The whole building shook and groaned as if punctuating her statement.

"Well, since the hallway's out, lets go through the next room," Nathan suggested. He stepped up to the metal door that divides two adjacent rooms. Unfortunately, such doors were the few things in the whole apartment complex that weren't made of wood. This particular door was also locked.

"I got this," Lena said as she pulled a bobby pin from her pocket.

Nathan simply ignored her and flung a Shadow Ball at the door, blasting it off its hinges and sending it through the collapsed floor of the adjacent room.

Clara stifled a laugh while Lena snorted in annoyance. "Fine, be that way then," she huffed.

"Guess we have to go down this way," Nathan said. The hole in the center of the room traveled down several stories and ended with a large pile of rubble.

"Wouldn't it be better to try to push through the rubble in the hallway?" Clara suggested. She watched in despair as she was ignored and Nathan jumped down the hole, followed by Lena. "No one ever takes me seriously," she mumbled as she shuffled off the edge.

xxxxxx

Nathan hit the smoldering floor with a roll, minimizing the amount of pain that shot up his body. He came to a skidding halt directly in front of a charred corpse. Most of its skin and clothes were burned away, leaving it completely featureless and unidentifiable. The face was the most disturbing part however, as its eyes were empty sockets and the lips were curled back, showing the corpse's blackened teeth. Nathan shuddered at the sight and quickly turned away in time to see Lena and Clara drop to the floor. They remained standing, seemingly not affected by the fall.

The three silently nodded and stepped out into the hallway, which showed clear evidence of the building's decimation. Several collapsed walls still had fires raging across them, the outer ones were blown in from rocket impacts, and a few corpses were buried beneath flaming debris.

"God damn..." Nathan whispered. The trio ran down the staircase until it came to a halt. "Alright tenth floor, halfway."

The tenth floor was different from all the others. Instead of living areas, it housed a single large now-destroyed cafeteria with large windows circling the room. Said windows were utterly smashed, the pieces spread out across the entire floor. The trio started to run when the helicopter that injured Lena appeared outside the windows.

Instead of focusing on them, it turned its guns towards the opposing staircase. The rockets that streaked from the gunship obliterated the stairs, cutting off the trio's escape. Satisfied with the destruction, it turned back to the stock-frozen trio and reloaded its launchers.

"Behind the bar!" Nathan shouted. The trio dived behind a nearby bar and hid just as a pair of rockets exploded on the floor they were standing on a split-second before.

"How are we gonna beat that thing?" Lena panted, "We don't have any guns and I don't think any powers are gonna put a dent in it."

Nathan used his ghost vision **(*)** to look at the gunship without exposing himself. It was slowly hovering in place, waiting for one of them to leave cover. It had a minigun mounted underneath the cockpit and a rocket launcher on either side. Its standard purple coloring was disturbed by an image of a nude Lucario half-breed instead of the usual 'R' logo, implying that it was a converted mercenary helicopter.

"Hey! Did you hear me?" Lena yelled in Nathan's ear, "we're fucked if we can't find some way to blow it to hell!"

Nathan returned his vision and punched a button under the counter. "We do have a way." The area beside the button made a mechanical whirring and slid open, revealing a brand-new ANViL missile launcher. Lock-on homing system, telescopic display, and a five-missile magazine insured that it allowed infantry to control nearby airspace unassisted. "The bartender here was a black-market arms dealer," he informed the stunned women, "He always kept a supply of explosives for a rainy day."

"Wow," Clara exhaled, "really lucky break."

"Yep." Nathan stood up and shouldered the missile launcher, the screen rapidly flashing red as it aquired a lock. The gunship jerked to the side to avoid it, yet the ANViL's screen blinked green anyway. Nathan fired a missile that arced towards the retreating gunship, where it slammed dead-center on the Lucario image. The resulting explosion caused the gunship to spin around wildly and prematurely fire one of its rockets. The rocket destroyed part of the floor, with one side falling to the floor below similar to a ramp.

"Well that's convenient. This way!" Lena yelled as she and Clara vaulted over the bar counter. Nathan tossed the launcher to the floor and followed them down the makeshift ramp. The lower floors were in even worse shape then the upper ones. Massive flame-ridden holes pocketed the area, fires raged across the entire floor, and nearly everything was turned to either embers or ash. Fortunately, there were no corpses to be seen.

 _'Glad Rhonda got to some people at least,'_ Nathan thought in relief. Once again the trio carefully made their way down the stairs. They made it to the third floor before their path was blocked by rubble.

"HEEELP!" someone from the hallway screamed. Everyone snapped their heads towards the source of the scream. A man, fully engulfed in flame, was stumbling towards them while flailing his arms madly. "OH GOD HELP ME PLEASE!" he begged. He fell to the floor and spasmed for a few more seconds before lying completely still.

Lena swore under her breath while Clara looked away.

"Why the hell would Rocket do this," Nathan seethed. The trio stepped around the burning corpse and down yet another hole to a lower floor. As soon as they landed, the building shook with enough force to dislodge several pieces of the ceiling onto their heads. "Almost out of here," he yelled over the noise, "just one more floor to go."

Lena kicked down the weakened door and glanced at the stairs. "Damn, still blocked."

The building violently shook again, the tremors sending the group of three sprawling across the ground. The sound of the roaring flames around them was soon drowned out by the sound of collapsing woodwork from the upper floors. Nathan crawled to whoever was nearest to him, Clara, and shielded her with his body. As soon as he covered her, the ceiling fell apart, pelting the three of them with wooden shrapnel. Lena quickly threw a Protect bubble around herself. The rain of debris continued for half a minute before the end was marked with a jagged piece of a 2x4 bursting through. Said piece spun a few times before landing on Nathan, impaling him clear through his mid-section.

Clara let out a short scream as Nathan's discolored blood splattered across her chest. He pushed himself away from her with a pained grunt. Clara gently grabbed on to his shoulders and lowered him to the ground.

"You didn't need to do that," she whimpered.

"There's...a lot of things...I don't need to do," he said between gasps of pain, "but I do...them anyway."

Lena dispelled the bubble around her and rushed to Nathan's aid. As soon as she reached him however, the floor underneath them collapsed, sending them to the floor below. The women twisted themselves in mid-air to land in a crouch, while Nathan landed on his back, pushing the rest of the wooden spike through his body.

He growled in pain as he sat up, tore the wood out of his torso, and flung it at the wall. He sat gasping and clutching his profusely bleeding chest. Within moments his green shirt was almost entirely stained purple. His vision started to blur as he felt himself get pulled to his feet.

"You look like shit," Lena whispered, "Clara, can you heal him?"

Clara had a look of intense guilt on her face. "No, I used up most of my energy healing his glass cuts and your explosion injury, and all the smoke is making me light headed. I'm so sorry Nathan."

His response was to cough up several globs of blood, some almost hitting the women beside him. "Shit hurts worse then bullets," he wheezed. He nearly fell to the ground, but Lena and Clara held him firmly. They started dragging him towards the front doors, which were widely opened as if they were a gateway to salvation.

"You didn't go through all this bullshit today of saving our asses just so you can die three feet from the exit," Lena growled, "You saved Clara and healed me for absolutely no reason, so by Arceus I'm getting you out of here alive. We owe you that much."

"I...said it before," Nathan protested, "you don't...owe me."

"Shut up and concentrate on not dying," she snapped, "I always repay my debts, whether you like it or not."

Nathan decided not to argue, especially since Clara was looking at him with a face that said 'Don't bother'. They were about 20 feet away from the door when Nathan heard a faint rumbling from upstairs. He swore under his breath and pressed both his hands against the women's backs.

"What are you doing?" Clara questioned.

Nathan ignored her and charged up a pair of Dark Pulses in his arms. Once they were fully charged, he used them to push the women away, sending them rolling and sliding across the ash-covered ground. He collapsed from the sudden lack of support, but still tried to crawl forward.

Lena and Clara stopped rolling and looked back in bewilderment. They gasped at the scene before them as time seemed to slow to a near stand-still. Nathan was frantically pulling himself to them while the ceiling exploded into another hail of debris. They watched as a large wooden support beam crashed down on top of him, crushing his spine and making him scream in pain. Flaming wood continued to fall around him, further burying him and adding to his pain. Once the dust settled, his entire lower body was crushed under a half-ton of rubble.

"FUCK!" Lena shouted. She and her sister ran up to Nathan's crumpled form. His breath was shallow and ragged, and flecks of blood dotted his visible half. "We can get you out of here Nathan," she said, desperately trying to help the dying man, "I can call for backup and-"

"No," he interrupted, "I'm not...getting...out of...here. It's taking...all my strength...to keep...my spirit...tethered...to my body. You two...need...to go. Now"

"We're not leaving without you," Clara meekly protested. Just a few minutes before, she was highly distrustful of him, as he effortlessly saw through her disguise and could've discovered who she was. But now she was determined to help him, just as he had helped her.

"You...need to," he repeated, "You...couldn't...get me out...from under...all this...anyway."

Lena growled and lowered her head. She hated it when she failed regardless of her actions. "I'm sorry Nathan, I really am," she spoke somberly. Her words were unheard however, as he had already slipped away. She sighed and stood up, helping Clara up as well. They hurried out of the destroyed building, most of the flames having died by now.

"He didn't deserve that," Clara said, her head slowly shaking, "Maybe if I wasn't so paranoid about keeping everything a secret, he wouldn't have had to protect me, then maybe he would still be alive."

"Don't," Lena ordered. She had to admit that her sister was ridiculously paranoid, but she didn't want her taking blame for things out of her control. She gazed up at the sky, feeling small raindrops land on her face. "If the good guys always won, the world wouldn't be the way it is now." She then balled her hands into fists in determination.

"But I'll be damned if I don't try and change that."

xxxxxx

Nathan jolted awake and gasped for breath, only to choke on blood. He hacked up balls of blood and flesh as his vision slowly returned. He was still buried under rubble, although it seemed the flames had been extinguished. He could barely see a faint human-shaped figure walk towards him from the doorway.

"Well well well, if it isn't Death himself," the figure sneered in amusement, "I've sent my best fighters and assassins after you only for all of them to fail, yet you've fallen to a pile of burned wood. How the mighty have fallen."

Nathan recognized that voice. It belonged to the man that has almost single-handedly destroyed his group. "You," he snarled.

"Me?" the man questioned, "If you are insinuating that I led this raid, I shall inform you that I merely ordered it. I only just arrived here to survey the damage."

"You...Fucking...Asshole," Nathan coughed, "You murdered...hundreds of...innocent civilians...just to get...to me?"

"No man is truly innocent," the man said with a dismissive wave, "besides, it is far better to dispose of potential rebels now before they become problematic."

"You...and all of Rocket...are just...a bunch of monsters."

The man gave a sickening laugh. "And the rest of humanity isn't? War, poverty, and racism permeate everyday life, and hundreds of people die _every day_ because of something as simple as differing ideals. You yourself stand upon your pedestal of self-righteousness while you massacre our soldiers by the dozen. Team Rocket seeks to _abolish_ such conflicts by uniting the world under a single banner."

"By destroying it?!"

"Only when necessary." The man unholstered a gun from his belt and aimed it at Nathan. The unmistakable shape of a .44 Magnum Revolver sent shivers down Nathan's shattered spine. "And now, Death, I deem _your_ destruction necessary."

A single bullet burst from the gun and penetrated Nathan's back, tearing his left lung and ribs to pieces before exiting through his chest. His eyes slowly closed as his head hit the ground with a small thud.

The man reholstered the gun and turned back to the door. "Live up to your name, will you?" he quipped as he walked away.

xxxxxx

"Nathan!"

Rhonda was frantically looking around the ruined complex for any sign of her sole friend. Ignoring the torrent of rain battering her body, she hovered around another building looking for him, but again came up fruitless. They had agreed to stay within the complex limits should they ever become separated and wait for the other to arrive. She knew that he would never break that agreement, even under the most dire of circumstances.

"Come on Nathan, where are you?" she quietly pleaded. The falling rain crackled against her body, giving her a flickering glow. She had searched over half the complex now, and was growing more and more desperate. She sped to the next building and called for him again. Once again, she had no luck. "Why does every building have to look the same?" she moaned. She floated to the next building and entered the lobby, only to be greeted by a sight that made her non-existent blood run cold.

There she saw Nathan lying underneath a huge pile of rubble with a small pool of blood surrounding him. His torso was speckled with purple blood, but was concentrated on his left side. He wasn't moving, and Rhonda couldn't even feel his spirit. She choked out a silent sob as she moved to him. She gingerly lifted his head and stared into his mostly-closed eyes.

"No," she breathed, "no no no no no, you promised Nathan, you _promised_." Sparkling tears ran down her cheeks, more falling with every second that passed. "You promised that you'd always be here. You promised you wouldn't die." She wrapped her arms around his head and cried into his hair. She cried for hours until her eyes burned and the tears stopped, yet still clung to him as if he was her lifeline.

"Why did this have to happen again," she mumbled. She peeled herself away from him, brushing away the strands of hair that were matted to her face. "Why does everyone I care about have to die?"

She lied down next to him and wrapped her arms around herself in a futile attempt to comfort herself. She pressed her face against the ground and started to cry again.

xxxxxx

A group of four, two men and two women, stepped across the police tape as if it wasn't there. One of the men, a seven foot tall, 300 pound behemoth of raw muscle, simply had to glance at the scattered officers in order to deter them from acting on their presence. The other man, slightly shorter and not nearly as well-built, was typing furiously on the tablet he was carrying, absent-mindedly stepping around the plentiful puddles dotting the complex. The two women were Lena and Clara, the former with a determined facial-expression, the latter with a worried one.

The group quickly made their way across the complex towards Nathan's building, soon reaching its burned remains.

"Excuse me," a lone police officer stopped them, "this area is undergoing an official investigation, state your business or I will be forced to arrest you for trespassing."

Lena's cyan eyes glowed slightly before speaking. "Get lost."

The officer clutched the side of his head at the sudden headache he felt. "Y-yes ma'am," he stuttered, "s-sorry to trouble to m-ma'am." He staggered over to the next building, where he promptly vomited into a garbage can.

"Lightweight."

The four entered the ruined lobby, cringing as they saw Nathan's body. "Thaddeus, can you move the rubble off of him?" Lena asked the large man.

"I will try," he responded in a deep, bellowing voice. He placed his hands underneath the bottom support beam and pulled upward, slowly lifting the entire pile. The other three quickly pulled Nathan away, allowing Thaddeus to drop the pile.

"How does he look Fred?" Lena inquired the smaller man.

Fred looked at his tablet and shook his head. "Bad. He's pretty damn chewed up, might not be able to revive him."

"Well, we have to try," Lena said as she stood up, "we owe him that much."

He looked at the tablet again as it continued to scan Nathan. "Entire lower half of his skeleton is shattered and there's a big-ass bullet wound in the left side of his chest, possibly from a .50 Cal. He's definitely gonna need implants and a replacement lung, probably more."

"Alright, lets get him patched up and send him somewhere..." she suddenly stopped as she heard noise.

"...safe?" She looked around for the source and saw Rhonda curled up into a corner softly whimpering. Lena glanced at Clara and nodded at the Rotom.

Clara slowly crawled over to her and gently placed a hand under her head. Rhonda was barely tingling with electricity, and her arms were faded to near transparency.

"Please, just go away," Rhonda pleaded, "I just want to be alone."

Clara felt a wave of guilt wash over her as she pulled Rhonda into an embrace. "It's okay, we're going to help him. He'll be fine," she said in an attempt to comfort her.

"That's what they said before."

Clara felt a chill run up her spine at the Rotom's words. She flinched slightly when she felt a small tap on her shoulder.

"Hey, let's get her somewhere away from here," spoke Lena from behind her, "The boys'll take care of Nathan, let's go."

"Yeah," she agreed. She held Rhonda tightly against her chest and stood up to follow Lena. "I worry about her though. She doesn't even want to live anymore."

Lena sighed and brushed a strand of white hair out of her face. "Well, unless she suddenly catches the Fade, she doesn't have a choice. Let's just get her to a graveyard or something where she can stay."

"All right, I'll follow you," Clara said with a nod.

xxxxxx

"So you think he's a good candidate?"

"Yes. I might not've trusted him at first, but they both changed my mind."

"Oh?"

"The Rotom knew who I was, so that put me on edge."

"Understandable. But he still rescued you from that gang, why would you distrust him?"

"You know why..."

"Yes...speaking of the rescue, how did it fare?"

"He's a very good fighter, took down several groups with almost zero effort."

"Mmmhmm, and you think she'll take him in as her champion?"

"Almost certain."

"She'll argue against it."

"She _has_ to. Ever since Lucas...she just hasn't been the same. I want her to stop beating herself up over it, and I think having a champion, a GOOD one, will help a lot."

"Very well. Fredrick said he should be fully healed in about a week, so you two can have your little argument in the meantime."

"She'll give in, she just say yes to shoo me away."

"Haha, you two are so predictable. You act like sisters, but argue as if you were a married couple."

"..."

xxxxxx

 _In 2020, Giovanni escaped Pallet City Maximum Security Prison with the aid of his old team as well as members of Team Magma. Once free, he fled Kanto and immediately assumed control of Team Rocket once again, relocating every asset to Johto's Goldenrod City. Since then, Rocket resumed their reign of terror, conquering over half of Johto in the span of two years. However, Rockets methods substantially darkened during that period, shifting from embezzlement and intimidation to assassination, arson, and outright terrorism. This shift was speculated to be caused by Giovanni's mental degradation as a result of his incarceration and untreated medical issues._

'Blasting Off Again,' a History of the World's Criminals- written by Eric Cornhow

* * *

 ***Ghost Vision is where the user 'detaches' their vision from their body, allowing them to look around their surroundings while staying safe (kinda like switching to 3rd person mode in a video game.)**

 **Questions? Comments? Just want to senselessly flame? Drop a review or a PM.**


	2. Arrival

**I really have no excuse for this long-ass absence. All I have to show for it is this thing that's merely a fraction of what the first chapter was. I promise it'll get better, and I'll even submit a new Shadows of War chapter sometime next week. I won't let any of my stories die, not unless I do.**

* * *

Nathan slowly curled his fingers and stretched his legs. The stiffness in his muscles took immense willpower to overcome. Almost groaning with effort, he opened his eyes only to be assaulted with a blinding white light. After letting his eyes recover, he opened them slowly to allow them to adapt to the light. He looked at his surroundings and saw that he was in a hospital room, judging by the various pieces of medical equipment and stark-white walls. He turned his gaze towards his body and noticed that he was covered in a white cloth and lightly bound to the bed he was laying on. He easily pulled the bindings off and swung his legs off the bed. He stretched again and pushed himself to his feet, swaying uneasily at first.

"The hell am I?" he wondered out loud. Several pieces of equipment were more advanced than anything he had ever seen in a conventional hospital. Of particular interest was the bed he was lying on, which appeared to be connected to a large horizontal cylinder.

He picked up a medkit that was hanging on the wall and examined it. It was a standard white with a red cross in the middle, but on the back corner was a certain symbol. A jagged red R.

"Rocket," Nathan hissed, "of course they'd capture me, can't just let me die in peace." He threw the medkit away just as the door opened. From it emerged a small floating onion-like creature holding a clipboard. It noticed Nathan and let out a startled gasp.

"You're awake already?" it asked. Judging by its voice, it was female.

"Yeah I'm awake," Nathan seethed, "you didn't think you could keep me under for long did you?"

"What are you-" her question got cut off as he grabbed her by the face and slammed her into the wall. The floating onion slid down the wall and hit the floor with a thud.

"Celebi! What the hell just happened in there?!" called a voice from the adjacent room. A young man ran through the doorway and came to a skidding halt when he saw Nathan and the crumpled onion creature. "What the fuck?" he asked in disbelief.

Nathan charged forward and grabbed the man's wrist, bending it backward. "What does Rocket want with me, huh? Why did you go through all the trouble of keeping me alive?"

"We. Aren't. Rocket," the man said through gritted teeth, "We SAVED you from them."

"Horse-shit." Nathan gripped the man's wrist harder, hooked his arm around his shoulder, and threw him over his back and to the floor. Several loud cracks and pops were heard as he landed, most coming from his now-mangled arm.

Nathan let the unconscious man's arm fall from his grasp. He walked into the room the man came from and was stunned by the state it was in. Papers and charts were scattered across the counters, vials of multicolored liquids were arranged haphazardly in the see-through cabinet, and a cup of coffee was lying on its side and dribbling onto the floor.

All-in-all, it was the exact opposite of what you'd expect a hospital office to look like.

Nathan paused just outside the door and focused his energy. Shadowy wisps slowly extended from his back and wrapped around his arms, but suddenly dissipated and he fell to the floor in exhaustion.

"Too weak...to use my powers," he gasped. He stood up and leaned against the counter for support. "Gonna have to do this the old fashioned way."

He left the office and entered an off-white colored hallway that extended in both directions. He chose to go right just as a voice blared over an intercom.

"Attention everyone," a female voice echoed through the hall, "The newest arrival has just escaped the clinic in a misguided rage. Subdue him, but do not kill him. I repeat, lethal force is NOT authorized!"

"They really want me alive eh?" he asked himself as he broke into a run. He passed by several doors in his sprint, each one having either a symbol or number in the center. He reached the end of the hallway and turned the corner, almost smacking into someone. They both spun out of each-others way, thankfully in opposite directions. As he turned to face them, he felt a large chunk of ice hit his arm and pin him to the wall. He grit his teeth at the cold that seemed to chill him to the bone.

"Don't try anything stupid and you won't get hurt," the woman in front of him said. She froze his other arm to the wall and placed her hand on her hip. She was a Glaceon morph, wearing a light-blue tank-top that matched her fur, as well as tight-fitting athletic pants of a deeper shade. She shook her head in disappointment, her head-crystals lightly swaying, "Y'know, knocking out Celebi and breaking Fred's arm isn't exactly a nice way to introduce yourself."

"I don't plan on staying long anyway," Nathan retorted. He broke the chunk of ice off the wall and swung it at her stomach, sending her flying into the opposite wall. He broke his other arm free and smashed the two chunks together, shattering them both and freeing his hands.

"You ass," the Glaceon-breed hissed at him. She stood up and glared at him, forming a pair of ice balls in her hands. "You just _had_ to make this difficult didn't you?" She flung the balls at Nathan, who barely dodged them. He lunged forward and extended his arm, connecting his fist with her shoulder and spinning her around slightly. She grabbed his arm and flung it to the side and smashed her knee into his stomach.

Nathan winced in pain and took several steps back to reorient himself, but quickly found himself dodging a flurry of blows that threatened to land if he slowed down even a little. He sensed a lull in her barrage and utilized it to ram his shoulder into her chest. She gasped in pain and stumbled backward, an arm holding her breasts.

"Damn it," she hissed, "I just got those piercings removed!"

Nathan froze in place and just stared at her for a few moments. "What?" he finally blurted.

The response he received was a swift blow to the nose, breaking it and spraying purple-black blood across his face and her fist. He retaliated with a right hook that she nimbly dodged, and she swung a left uppercut that he also dodged. He brought his knee into her stomach and hooked his arms around her as she doubled over.

"What the hell are you-" her question was cut off as she was picked up, swung around a few times, and thrown into the wall. He slammed his fist into her as she began to fall, pinning her to the wall.

"What the _hell_ do you people want from me?" he growled at her.

"If you'd stop...being fucking insane," she paused to cough up some blood, "you'd have all the answers you want."

"Not an option."

She grit her teeth and kicked him away, grunting as she hit the floor. She shakily stood up and coughed up some more blood. "Y'know, for someone that's been in a coma for two weeks after literally _dying_ and being brought back, you're pretty damn tough."

Nathan smirked and stood still. "I'm already half dead," he said, referring to his Ghost typing, "and I sure as hell won't let going all the way slow me down."

 _'He is seriously strong,'_ the Glaceon-breed thought, _'even for a Gengar-breed.'_

Her thoughts were interrupted when Nathan suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and headbutt her in the face, sending her stumbling back. He then brought his elbow back and slammed it into the side of her head, causing her to hit the wall with a sickening crack. She struggled to stay standing and leaned against the wall for support. Blood flowed freely from her nose and mouth, with a small trickle coming from her eyes that clouded her vision with every blink.

"Gloria, disengage!"

Both fighters turned to face the voice. They saw a tall woman, with greenish-yellow skin, a long snout-like face, and long green hair, wearing a one-piece dress that flowed as she ran towards them. The dress had a vague modernized renaissance feel to it Nathan figured, as it hid one leg but exposed the other and barely covered more then the lower half of her breasts. She also appeared to be holding a syringe in her left hand.

"Gloria, you are far too injured to continue fighting," the woman panted, "retreat now, I will handle it from here."

"Not gonna argue," the Glaceon-breed croaked as she quickly stumbled away.

Nathan snarled as he turned towards the woman. He didn't know what the syringe held, but he did know that it probably wasn't good for his health.

"Nathan, I don't want to do this, but you forced our hand," the woman sighed. She ran toward him and aimed a kick at his head. He jumped out of the way and watched as her foot flew an inch from his face. He noticed that the high-heels she was wearing had a small retractable blade in the heel, and was thankful it wasn't deployed. He swung a fist at her stomach, but she caught it and twisted his arm to his back and jammed the syringe into his neck.

He broke free of her grapple and tore the syringe out. It slowly dripped a blue fluid from its tip as he stared at it. Pain flared up from the wound it left and his vision blurred and doubled.

"What...the fuck?" he slurred. He suddenly felt very drowsy and had to lean against the wall for support. "Whaa...?"

The woman sighed and pinched between her eyebrows in frustration. She didn't want to inflict too much pain and damage on him, as it would likely hamper their chances of recruiting him, but she had no choice but to physically knock him out as he destroyed the sedative before it could fully take effect.

 _'This is not going to end well,'_ she thought as she tensed her body. She took a few steps forward and launched another kick at his head. His dodge sent him sprawling across the ground with absolutely zero grace. He quickly picked himself up and tried to grab her hair, but she grabbed his arm with inhuman speed and did a roundhouse kick to the back of his head, this time connecting and knocking him out cold.

She let go of his unconscious body and rested against the wall, panting slightly. After a few moments she pulled a small device out of her bra and held it close to her muzzle. "This is Virizion, I have pacified Nathan with little problem, although he is moderately wounded."

"Alright, thanks Viri," another female voice spoke through the communicator, "Take him to the clinic again, I'll have Kyogre patch him up since Fredrick and Celebi are out of commission."

Virizion huffed but didn't complain, instead just stuffing the device back into her bra. It wasn't that she had to take him to the clinic that she hated, it's that she had to _carry_ him there, and she wasn't exactly the strongest pokémon around. Still, she swallowed her grievances and hefted his body onto her shoulder, grunting in exertion from the weight.

xxxxxx

"Alright, take him off the sedatives. _Slowly._ "

Nathan felt himself slowly awaken to a world of numbness and blinding white light. He tried to move his limbs but found that they were heavily bound to the table he was laying on. He then tried to raise his head, but let it fall back down after a massive headache ripped through his skull.

"He looks good, lookin' good. Ease him off now," he heard a voice say next to him. Eventually the light dimmed enough for him to see. To his left was a slightly chubby woman wearing a blue t-shirt and grey cargo shorts, a head completely devoid of hair, and covered head-to-toe in blue-and-red tattoos save for her pure white face. Her arms were folded over her rather sizable breasts as her eyes scanned up and down his body. Suddenly she reached out and brushed his forehead with her hand. It felt smooth and slightly chilled, almost like water.

"He seems fine," she said as she retracted her hand and placed it on her hip, "I'm gonna go check on the other two now, you do...whatever." With that she walked out of the room, her spot being taken by another woman. This one wore grey clothing, had white hair, and looked considerably slimmer without being outright thin (or flat).

"So, Nathan," the woman started, crossing her legs, "I take it you have no freaking idea what the hell is going on right now, right?"

"Yeah, you could say that," he replied. His throat was dry and it hurt to talk, but he figured that he wasn't in a position to ask for water.

She took a deep breath and entwined her fingers. "Alright, here's the gist of it. Right now, you're in the Hall of Legends, you know what that is?" He nodded. "Okay, so you know about the Legendaries and Champions right?"

"Not much about the former," he admitted, "but I've...dealt business with the Champions before." He couldn't put his finger on it, but he swore he's seen the woman before.

"Yeah, you were one of the Horsemen," she chuckled, making his eyes widen, "you guys always were our favorite band of crazies."

"H-how do..."

"You _told_ me," she chuckled, "showed me pics of your buddies and everything."

Nathan didn't recall ever doing that. Although there was a time recently when he had some unexpected guests...

"Lena?!"

The woman sighed leaned back in her chair, "Yes and no. Lena is an alias of mine. My REAL name is Darkrai. I'm the goddess of nightmares."

Nathan nodded his head, utterly lost past her second sentence.

"Okay, what's important is that I'm a Legendary, and the most of us have a champion. I don't after...recent events. So, with the slightly unwanted help of my friend Shaymin, I found a new potential candidate. You." She let the information sink in before resuming. "My question is, do you want to be my champion?"

Nathan mulled over the sudden influx of information. He had a healthy respect for the champions, and now that he knew that they were led by literal gods he respected them even more. But he always was more of a lone wolf, even during his Horseman days. On one hand, he felt uncomfortable with the sudden change of lifestyle.

On the other hand, he was currently bound to a table by heavy leather straps.

"What, exactly, does being a champion entail?" he cautiously asked.

Darkrai leaned her head back in thought. "Well, if you become my champion, then we're usually paired up when it comes time to kick down doors and shoot people in the face. Beyond that, not much different from being in a college dorm, but instead of having poker night with frat boys and sorority girls, its with trained super-soldiers and physical gods."

"Sounds...deceptively easy."

"Well, it kinda is easy," she said with a shrug, "at least until someone does something stupid and we get sent on a mission. _Then_ life fucks you in the ass with small pieces of lead and shrapnel."

Nathan once again absorbed her words. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn't have any real reason to say no. "Okay, I accept."

Darkrai allowed a small smile to twitch onto her lips. "Alright, well, welcome to the family," she said as she stood up.

"Yeah that's nice," Nathan sighed, "but can you untie me now? I feel like I'm in a BDSM club."

Darkrai chuckled and began to undo his bindings. "Nah, not a club. Just Ho-oh." She shrugged with a smile at his confused face. "We had to tie you up so you wouldn't go berserk again."

"Again?"

She stopped briefly before looking at him in confusion. "Uh, yeah. You kinda went crazy yesterday and started punching people out left and right." She grew even more confused when he shook his head. "You don't remember?"

"No, the last thing I remember is getting impaled by wood and Clara's scream," he shrugged and scratched his head with his free hand. Darkrai quickly undid the rest of the bindings and he tried to sit up, only to be held back.

"Oops, hold on," she reached around to the small of his back and fumbled with the cord connected to it. He heard a snap-hiss and felt pain as something exited the inside of his back. "Sorry Nathan, Kyogre wanted your implants to switch on slowly instead of all at once."

"Implants?" Nathan queried, "You mean like cybernetics?"

"Yep. Brand new, top-of-the-line Gen 2.5 cybers. Replaced almost every bone in your lower body and one of your lungs. Unfortunately Kyogre thought that having everything installed all at once would overload your body, so they're just the basic model."

"Well that's...kinda neat." He sat up and stretched, careful not to aggravate the quarter-inch hole in his back. To tell the truth, he wasn't all that jazzed up about having half his skeleton replaced by wires and circuitry.

"If you want all the fancy stuff like running faster or whatever," she continued, "you're gonna want to see Mewtwo. He does all the techy shit."

"Uh huh." Nathan discarded the sheet covering him and quickly noticed he was only wearing a pair of boxers. Boxers that weren't his. "Uh, there wouldn't happen to be any clothes on-hand would there?" he sheepishly asked.

Darkrai laughed and tossed him a pair of pants, which he quickly put on. "No shirts, since we didn't know what you like," she shrugged, "besides, you might wanna get used to going shirtless."

"Why?"

"'Cuz we got a swimming pool," she grinned.

"A...pool?" Nathan asked.

"Olympic size," she grinned even wider.

"Riiiight," Nathan said with an eye-roll as he stood up. He was wobbly at first, but quickly found his footing. "Is there anywhere I CAN get a shirt?"

Darkrai sighed and led him out of the room and into the office. It was much, much cleaner now, with everything in its proper place. "Yeah, your room has a bunch of clothes in it, just take what you want and toss th-"

"You FUCKING **IDIOT!** "

"Oh no," Darkrai moaned. She quickly moved to the door and opened it enough to peer through, just in time to see a large red dinosaur get hit in the face with a tiny white box.

"THAT'S why he went nuts! Because that medkit that YOU brought had the fucking Rocket logo on it!" The screaming voice belonged to an equally large floating whale.

"Hey, I just stole the damn thing like I was supposed to!" the dinosaur protested, "How the hell was I supposed to know we were getting a new guy! _And_ that he'd see it and go berserk because of one little thing!"

"DOESN'T. FUCKING. MATTER," the whale screeched, "You STILL should have scratched the fucking label off, weather or not there was a 'new guy'! You have giant-ass claws, use them for something OTHER than jacking yourself off!"

"I just do what Arceus tells me to do, you want extra shit done, do it your own damn self!" With that, the dinosaur stomped off, his hands clenched into fists.

The whale however groaned and slammed her head into the wall, shaking the whole building. "I can't BELIEVE I'm related to such a fucking DUMBASS!"

"Hey, uh, Kyogre," Darkrai said, barely loud enough for the whale to hear, "can you go vent somewhere else? I want to get Nathan to his room _without_ either of us dying."

Kyogre took several deep breaths to calm herself down before turning to face the goddess of nightmares. "I'm good, I'm good. So I guess he accepted huh?"

"Yep." She moved to the side to allow him to enter the hallway. He was stunned as soon as he saw the whale.

"You're...large," he gaped.

Kyogre took on a pained expression as she felt around her body. "I'm...I'm not fat. A little big maybe, but..."

"Nice going jackass," Darkrai elbowed him in the ribs, "awake less than ten minutes and you're already making people cry."

Nathan let out an exasperated sigh, "I'm sorry if the ten foot tall whale is the largest living being I've ever seen."

"I'm not even at my full size," said whale moaned, "I've _shrunk_ in order to fit in here."

"Wait, you can just...shrink?"

"All of the larger legendaries and change their size to fit through tight spaces," Darkrai explained, "if they couldn't, then guys like Giratina wouldn't even be able to fit through the front door unless they use their anthro forms."

"Okay, now what the hell is an anthro form?"

Darkrai sighed and rolled her eyes. "Show 'im," she told the whale. Said whale was enveloped in a blue light that slowly changed shape and descended to the floor. Once it touched the floor it dissipated, leaving behind the tattooed bald woman from earlier. The process then repeated in reverse, with the woman turning into the whale.

"That was...freaky yet awesome," Nathan said, astonished.

"Yep, and all legendaries can do it too," Darkrai nodded. A blue glow surrounded her as well and left behind a pitch-black phantom with white hair and a red necklace. "Most legends prefer to stay in their normal forms," she said, her voice deeper and more powerful, yet still distinctly feminine, "but some, like me, like our anthro forms more." She reverted back and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Now come on, lets get to your room. Later Kyogre!"

"Bye..." the whale whimpered.

Once the two got a sufficient distance away from her, Darkrai pinched the back of Nathan's arm, causing him to wince. "She's very self-conscious about her weight and gets enough shit from her brother, so don't say anything that might hurt her, 'kay?"

"Yeah, understood," he said as he pulled his arm away. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Darkrai stopped in front of a door. Room 6-32B.

"Okay, here we are," she opened the door, "feel free to change the number to whatever you want, there's no specific numbering system."

He entered the room and closed the door while Darkrai waited outside. She quickly grew impatient and began tapping her fingers against the wall. She grew bored of that and stopped, but was confused when the sound didn't stop.

"Hello Darkrai."

She uttered a squeak of fright and spun around, coming face-to-snout with a green deer-like creature. "Dammit Virizion! Why the fuck were you sneaking up on me?"

"I wasn't sneaking, you simply weren't paying attention," Virizion rebutted.

Darkrai threw her hands up and shook her head, "Whatever, what'd you want."

"I just came to see how you were, and if Nathan had accepted your offer."

"Yeah he did, he's in there getting changed right now."

"But..." Virizion started, "isn't that Meloetta's room?"

"Nah, she moved to the one next over last week," Darkrai said, jabbing a thumb to her right, "guess she got tired of Mew's Halo tournaments."

Virizion nodded in understanding. Mew and Celebi were heavy gamers, and their midnight gaming sessions sometimes kept their up throughout the night.

"Do you mind if I speak with Nathan?" she asked, "I wish to apologize for my actions yesterday."

Darkrai shifted around uncomfortably at her request. "Well, y'know that love tap you gave him upside the head? It kinda screwed with his memory a bit, can't remember anything about it."

Virizion frowned at this information. "And I suppose that apologizing for something he has no knowledge of will only confuse him," she sighed, "or even invoke hostilities."

"Yeah, you might wanna keep quiet 'bout it," Darkrai said while rubbing her arm.

Virizion let a look of sadness spread across her face. "Very well, I'd rather not lose an ally because of a single incident," she mumbled. She began walking away when Darkrai stopped her.

"Hey, maybe in a few days when he's settled in you can talk to him," she offered. "And you can get that date you seem to want so badly, since you and Keldeo aren't a thing anymore," she finished with a smirk.

Virizion paused long enough to mule-kick Darkrai in the chest, sending the latter tumbling across the floor.

"Okay, I kinda deserved that," she gasped as she stood up. She watched the deer angrily stomp away as Nathan emerged from the room, now fully clothed.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Ah, just a little argument with a friend," she said with a dismissive wave. Nathan rose an eyebrow and stared at her, but didn't say anything. "C'mon, lets go to the courtyard, let you get your bearings."

Nathan shrugged and gestured for her to lead the way. They walked in silence, Nathan observing the primarily white hallways and Darkrai simply thinking.

 _'Darkrai, you and Nathan stay where you are.'_

"Hold up Champ," she relayed to him. A second later a bright white portal opened in front of them. Nathan shielded his eyes from the light as a woman emerged from the portal, a few wisps of light clinging to her.

"Darkrai, Nathan," she greeted the two.

"Hey Arceus," Darkrai waved, "what are you here for?"

Arceus sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Nothing good I'm afraid. It seems Rocket has acquired sensitive information relating to Johtoian government projects."

Nathan tilted his head and stared at the woman. She wore a simple white robe with a golden band around the center, and her pure-white hair was in a ponytail. Her face and voice were attractive, yet both had an air of authority around them. "I'm guessing this involves us somehow?" he asked.

Arceus nodded. "We need you to steal back that information. Darkrai is the best infiltrator we have, and I hear you're no slouch at stealth either. But I don't want to press you into action so soon after your recovery."

Nathan rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "I've been better honestly, but if important shit needs to be done then I'm game."

"If Nathan's good, then I am too," Darkrai nodded in agreement.

Arceus felt an uneasy smile show. "If you are confident in your abilities, then I give you lease. You have until tomorrow to act." With that, she walked back into the portal, which promptly disappeared.

"Alright Nathan, we're taking a detour," Darkrai sighed, "seems we're going to the arena instead."

"Why?" he asked with confusion. Shouldn't they go get ready for the mission?

"I want to make sure you're good to go," she explained, "I don't doubt your abilities, I trust Shaymin's word on that, but you DID spend two weeks dead. I don't want something going wrong in the middle of a firefight."

He nodded in understanding. He figured some practice would do him some good.

xxxxxxx

 _We're Champions. 'Normal' isn't even in our dictionary. Unless normal means being plucked off the street, handed several swords, guns, and beers, then being told to go make the bad guy's lives as miserable as possible, all in the span of about ten minutes._

Damien Crane, Champion of Dialga, during an interview discussing the lives of champions. The statement is highly controversial, as the legendaries have confirmed that it is only a _mild_ exaggeration.

* * *

 **Again, I'm really sorry. Things WILL get better though, I can promise that.**


End file.
